


Memories Like Poison

by kitausuret



Category: Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Venom (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Extended Scene, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, I'm Bad At Tagging, Klyntar, One More Day reversal, One Shot, Symbiote Spider-Man, Venomverse - Freeform, headcanons gone wild, protective Venom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 17:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitausuret/pseuds/kitausuret
Summary: Warning: Spoilers for Venomverse #1!Venomverse gave us a whole host of Venoms from all over the multiverse, one of them being a Peter Parker who eventually kept the living costume when it bonded to him. But what happened with this other Spider-Man? What was going through his mind in the last moments of life before the Poison took him?





	Memories Like Poison

**Author's Note:**

> Historian’s Note: The following takes place in the last few pages of Venomverse #1. I’ve created a couple headcanons of my own for the Peter Parker who appeared in Venomverse, mostly having to do with One More Day, so maybe just roll with it?
> 
> (original draft written for Inktober (for Writers) 2017, Day 3: Warmth/Poison)

“E-Eddie…”

He ground his teeth and used his considerable strength to tug at the dark webbing. The symbiote’s influence leaked out through his strained vocal folds. 

“...Run for it!...”

_ This is it. This is how I die. In another dimension. Fighting a war I didn’t ask for, without friends or family, beside an alternate universe’s version of a man who seems to hate me in every reality. _

Peter Parker struggled against the tendrils tightening around his chest and neck. The symbiote fought valiantly to keep them both alive even as the Poison choked them half to death. They’d never thought they’d manage to encounter an Otto Octavius even more monstrous than the original. The multiverse was a terrifying thing. 

He couldn’t see the other man, but he heard Eddie Brock over the commotion:

“I ain’t going  _ anywhere.  _ I was brought here to fight these things… and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Peter could have laughed, if his ribs weren’t already broken. Wherever the hell this version of Brock came from, maybe he wasn’t completely terrible. Eddie Brock? Falling in line to assist a greater cause? Alert the presses. But he still didn’t understand the concept of tactical retreat. He needed to get out of here; find the other Venoms; regroup and plan their next move against the Poisons. 

Brock didn’t care about Peter. But he did care about his own sense of pride.  _ That _ had to be true everywhere.

The Poison slammed him into the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. The symbiote struggled to hold its host together, survival instinct the only thing keeping them both from dissolving into a state of shock. He gathered his strength and yelled to Brock, “I’m… all right. Just go. I’ll be right behind you!”

The symbiote flooded Peter’s brain with a burst of norepinephrine, hoping the increased urgency would do the trick. Even so, it felt the young man’s mind go dark. 

_ \- Peter! Peter!! _

Just as he was about to pass out, they heard a horrible squelching sound. The Poisoned, six-armed monstrosity screeched in agony and turned to the offending Venom. Eddie Brock had driven a huge stake through the Poison and was fighting to get it off of Peter. The momentary distraction was enough for Peter and his symbiote to wrench free and slump onto the concrete of the broken city. 

Brock wasn’t a fluid or even very skilled fighter, aside from what Venom knew, but at least he was brutal in every universe. And for now, Peter would take the help. This was their chance to take a beat; to heal and then they could-

**_“Peter?”_ ** a woman’s voice called to him. It sounded so familiar. It sounded like...

He looked up. That… that voice… The symbiote had fallen silent, working on repairing his punctured lungs and fixing the worst of the bleeding. Peter blinked until his vision cleared. Spider-sense wasn’t going off… or…?

**_“Oh, no, Peter.”_ **

His heart skipped a beat. 

_ Aunt May? _

She looked just as he remembered; her kind, wrinkled face; her bony, outstretched hand reaching for him. Oh, god, he’d missed her so much, ever since the day-

**_“Are you all right?”_ **

Peter choked back tears. Inside, the symbiote stirred, realizing something was amiss. 

_ \- Peter… I don’t think… _

**_“Oh, I’m so worried about you.”_ **

Whatever was happening between Brock and the Poison Octopus was lost. All he could see was his dear, sweet Aunt May, the kindest, strongest, most loving woman he’d ever known. She was the one who’d always been there for him, and in the end, the only one he hadn’t been able to save.

_ \- Peter! _

**_“Come along, dear.”_ **

She wore a lavender dress. It was the same thing she’d worn that day in the motel, that day he’d grabbed MJ and pulled her out of the path of a speeding bullet, but he hadn’t been fast enough. He’d watched that bullet streak straight through Aunt May, and for a moment, he’d thought he would have done anything to save her. He’d almost made a bargain that could have cost him everything. 

His constant companion had told him what it was telling him now:

_ \- Stop! _

**_“Uncle Ben is waiting for you back home.”_ **

Sometimes; sometimes he wished he hadn’t stopped. Sometimes he wished he could go back. It would be so easy. He could just take her hand. He could ignore the screaming in his head and just… go back… 

_ \- Peter, she’s not real! Uncle Ben died! _

But Peter Parker’s legendary will was indomitable. It had taken years for the symbiote to reach the levels of partnership they enjoyed, but in matters like this, in matters of family, there was no reaching him. It could not forcibly take control of its host, even to save him.

The first touch of Aunt May’s hand was warm and soft, just like it was supposed to be. It felt like home. It felt like Queens, New York; like wheatcakes and nostalgia; like…

...wait. No, no, something was…

Her soft hand suddenly felt like daggers. Within him, the symbiote screamed in agony. Wildfire swept through his veins, faster than he could cry out; almost faster than he could regret. Tears sprang to his eyes in a last-ditch effort to retain his humanity.

_ I’m sorr- _

_ \- Don’t, Peter. Don’t be. I should be thanking you. _

_ Why? For what? _

Despite the poison spreading through their collective body, the symbiote tried to calm its host in their final moments together. It tried to ease him into the abyss. It bore as much of the pain as it could, because that was the least it could do.

_ \- Thank you for being my friend, Peter Parker. Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for showing me a better way of life. And thank you for letting me die as you lived… A hero. _


End file.
